


Queer

by princetestified



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Boys Being Boys, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Parabatai, Post-Morgensterns, Post-War, jace is a bit strange, okay a lot strange, so many goddamn mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princetestified/pseuds/princetestified
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Alec was coming to the realization that Jace was very peculiar."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queer

**Author's Note:**

> another tmi thing! somehow all my jace/alec stuff ends up being super tame & just. fluff. that's all it is. so much fluff.  
> there's another tokyo ghoul thing in the works, as well as some stuff that needs to be finished. i might post the dmmd fics that are on my tumblr (a grand total of 2) on here? who knows.  
> anyhow!! please, enjoy!

Alec was coming to the realization that Jace was very peculiar.

Was it strange to come to this revelation? Certainly. What was stranger still was that this very epiphany had occurred many times over the course of their trysts with the mangled, merciless matrons of war, each one broadening the scope of differences as the number of them increased. As each page in history turned, Jace too morphed and changed, adapting and bearing the burdens of what must have been the entirety of the Nephilim world, the only real sign of which was increasingly conflicted eyes. Though they, at first, might have resembled his late mother's, they held a color all their own, brilliant with ichor and what must have been the sun itself. Now, in the wake of utter misery and a fear that morning might not return, there was but one purpose in Jace's life – Clary. No longer was he a single unit. Every breath, every motion, every heartbeat, every smile, every note of laughter was orchestrated in tandem or in reaction to this tiny Shadowhunter girl who had stopped the obliteration of a world she originally knew nothing of. Not even the walls of unconsciousness could stop them; Alec had once encountered them in some tangled mess on the sofa, obviously exhausted, and watched, mesmerized, as their chests rose and fell in a synchronicity envied by all the world's greatest composers, yearned for by even the most sophisticated of metronomes. Even things as mundane as grouching about the lack of coffee in the mornings had turned into some opportunity for inside jokes and bonding, the extent of which baffled Alec. Was he that sentimental and blissful with Magnus? He certainly hoped to attain that level of familiarity with his warlock lover at some point, but in the wake of their repaired relationship, he was thoroughly coaxed into taking it much slower than previous circumstances had allowed.

However, he didn't even have to see them together to sense the overwhelming emotions that emanated from the both of them like some superfluous fragrance. The boundaries of biology did not affect them, either. Though it was not nearly the full extent, a great majority of the sensations and the feelings were poured through the _parabatai_ bond he shared with Jace, most potently when the rune was touched in some way. It had proven a bit awkward at first, but eventually, it became a thing that Alec truly treasured and appreciated, reveling in the warmth that he could no longer be bitter about a lack thereof. If he was feeling particularly third wheel-ish, he would ring Magnus and the two of them would retreat to his flat, curling up on the sofa with glasses of wine and sharing between them the responsibility of keeping up with the extraordinary amount of affection that Chairman Meow demanded.

Currently, however, his warlock was tending to his business and it was rather late at night, though time had never posed an issue between them. Nevertheless, Alec had decided to seek other things to entertain himself, like the company of a favorite book or perhaps Isabelle. As much as they could bicker, he really did enjoy listening to her and interjecting with insightful (and, more often than not, quite snarky) comments.

As Alec padded, barefoot, through the corridors of the Institute, he presently came upon Jace, curled up in his favorite armchair with a small stack of novels beside him, and the warm sensation of déjà vu washed over him. The absence of Clary must have meant she had either gone to bed or went to tend to something else for the time being, further cementing the familiarity of the scene. That, however, was tipped over as he spotted a suspicious, glittering, silver bracelet encircling one wrist, skin tanned by the summer sun and burned gold by the lamp lit on the end table. The light caught in the curling tips of his hair, transforming it into the sun itself in its brilliance. Water droplets from what Alec knew was a recent shower had become drops of liquid platinum, complementing the scorching warmth of Jace Herondale with the coolness of the moon, a stark circle against the dark glass of night, shown in the panes of the windows. Alec was so distracted by such an incredibly accurate visual metaphor of his relationship with this boy that he had not noticed that he was, in fact, being stared at with a quirked brow.

"Earth to Alec Lightwood?" Jace tried, quizzical and teasing as his crooked grin revealed a charmingly chipped incisor. Alec came back to reality with a rush of chagrin. "Don't tell me you're waxing sentimental on me in your old age."

"Not like you're any better," his _parabatai_ countered. He settled himself (well, flopped) on the adjacent chair, his smile only a small curve of the lips, instead lingering in his eyes. "I think you're getting soft on me."

"Me? _Soft_?" The answering snort was derisive and sharp, familiar in a way that made Alec wonder why he ever thought, even for those minuscule seconds, they were growing distant in the wake of the Morgensterns. "As if. You looked in the mirror, lately? Your dark circles are actually starting to look less like a terrible raccoon impersonation."

It was a Jace kind of reassurance to an Alec kind of concern. Of course they were still just as close; it was merely a different kind of close, one that was just as comforting as their original relationship, holding a new kind of depth that was yet unexplored between them. Without a word, Alec held out a hand, palm up, a nonverbal offer that Jace took smoothly, his free hand turning a page in his book. Sebastian's silver bracelet kissed Alec's skin, chilly at first, eliciting a flare-up of goose flesh along the entirety of his forearm. He shivered, and his hand was viscerally squeezed.

"Why do you still wear it?" Alec asked, voice not small but certainly not loud, either. The use for the bracelet had originally been tracking, but since Sebastian had been dead for months now, it was no more than some spoil of war – at least, in Alec's eyes. Jace evidently held a different view.

It took Jace several beats to answer. "... It's really the only thing we have of him left," he replied, with a nonchalance in his voice that Alec wondered about. What he didn't ponder was the "we". Clary and Jocelyn, of course. "Not the most flattering memento, I know, but it's not like I'm about to keep his ring or something. Little too late for that. And it's too 90s-high-school-sweetheart for me." Jace huffed out a little laugh that made his _parabatai_ crack a smile, grateful for the momentary levity. "It used to always be cold, y'know? But after... everything, it started warming up. Not all of a sudden, just gradually, like it's supposed to. I asked Clary if she wanted it, but she said no."

When Alec couldn't help but quirk a brow, Jace's answering look reflected with his confusion in equal amounts. "I don't know why, either, but hey. As long as it doesn't try to kill us, I think it'll be all right."

"Yeah. Better than nothing, I guess." Alec grimaced a bit at his awkward phrasing, but his companion waved it off with an easy smile and the warm sensation of a thumb rubbing against the back of his hand. Jace's skin, even now, still thrummed with the heat and kinetic energy of heavenly fire – he suspected it would be a permanent thing, even after what had occurred in Edom. Alec didn't particularly mind. In fact, it was a nice touch, another addition to the ever-developing post-war Jace, who carried the Herondale name and a real identity, not the boy mistaken for a Wayland who had nothing besides the Lightwoods. He seemed comfortable with it, and that put Alec at significant ease. He just didn't know how he felt about him wearing a dead boy's bracelet. Especially the bracelet of a dead boy who had near completely obliterated their entire world. Jace, sensing his _parabatai_ 's uncertainty, shot him a concerned glance before it softened.

"You can touch it, y'know."

Alec's overactive train of thought screeched to an abrupt stop. " _What_?"

"Touch it, seriously. It's not gonna bite you." Jace grinned, being blatantly cheeky.

"Wh– it's already touching me, I don't know what you're talking about." Miffed, the eldest of the Lightwoods pointedly looked away, glaring at some vague area of the wall without any real venom. He was acting more like a first grader who had just discovered cooties than a fully trained Shadowhunter. When Jace let go of his hand, Alec whipped around, crystal gaze accusatory and puzzled, only to find slender pianist fingers pulling off Sebastian's bracelet. Before Alec could really protest, Jace had slipped it around his wrist, the engraving facing up, almost leering. _Acheronta Movebu_. A butchered line from Virgil – _Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebu_.

_If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell_.

Sebastian Morgenstern had certainly raised hell.

Alec glowered down at the silver accessory, half expecting some horrid, lucid rush of demonic energy, only to be equal parts disappointed and relieved when the bracelet merely sat there on his wrist, unassuming and, aside from its misshapen quote, nondescript. He found himself frowning for reasons he couldn't place.

"I told you so," sneered Jace, who sat beside him with a wicked grin that held reassurance, albeit under several hefty layers of snark. "It's just a regular bracelet that unfortunately landed in the hands of a monster. A lying monster."

Alec instinctively added, "The worst kind."

Jace had once confided in him that his greatest fear was monsters. Not the kinds of monsters that they fought, but real ones. There were many different types of monsters in the world, he explained: demons, monsters who abducted children, monsters who devoured dreams, monsters who sucked blood. But most of all, there were monsters who always told lies. Lying monsters were the most terrifying of all because they were the most cunning. They posed as humans, even though they did not understand the human heart. They studied, though they had no interest in academics, and they ate, though they experienced no hunger. They sought friendships, though they did not understand love. Jace stated that, if he were ever to be confronted by this sort of monster, he would surely be eaten alive.

Because, the truth was, he was that monster.

Alec had been, of course, intensely confused at the time, but had, over the duration of the wars, come to understand and perhaps even empathize with that fear in ways he never knew possible. Now, wearing the bracelet once possessed by tyranny long since dead, he had finally laid all the dark pieces of the pitch-black and blood-spattered puzzle in their respective places, leaving him with a terrible mural of things that, even among Shadowhunters, few experienced. His unease only deepened. Notably, Jace did not move to stop Alec as he slipped off the small circlet of silver, instead clasping it once more around his _parabatai_ 's wrist. His own was braceleted with a lingering chill, though that certainly could have been – most likely was – the product of an overactive and paranoid imagination.

"I'm not strong enough for this." Before Jace could so much as inhale in preparation for what he knew would be a sharp and terse refutation, Alec continued. "I haven't been through the things you have, haven't ever had that kind of connection with him. I played with him when I was a kid, and– and... what happened to Max. That's it. I don't care if it's not cold any more, or if it won't bite me. You were the one who stopped that lying monster. I never could have, not like you did. I'm destined to be your _parabatai_ , not on the front lines where someone worthy of carrying heavenly fire should be. And you were always the one who raised hell."

He cracked a wry smile and watched the last Herondale do the same, as if he were the negative to Jace's brilliant and blinding positive. The dark star to his supernova. Jace reached for his hand again, intertwining their fingers as an expression brimming with real sincerity bloomed on his rakishly handsome features, something he'd only ever seen when Clary was in the room, and during their binding ceremony so long ago. Alec had half a mind to glance over his shoulder to check for her presence in the doorway, only to belatedly realize that, if she had indeed appeared, Jace would have sensed her long before he did. The tenderness in his face was for Alec and Alec alone. That realization sent sparks down his spine, fulfilling all of those fervent, misguided wishes that he had held mere months ago, igniting something familiar in the recesses of his chest cavity. As if on cue, he felt the _parabatai_ Mark on his shoulder thrum, could swear he heard it purr.

"Does– does yours do that too?" Alec blurted. Jace looked confused, and rightly so. "I– your _parabatai_ rune. When you're with Clary, or when I'm with Magnus, or in situations like right now, it's... it's got a life of its own."

Realization dawned on Jace's pretty face, and washed away what felt like the entirety of Alec's doubts with it. "Yeah, it does."

"We're really strange," the eldest Lightwood murmured after a few moments of quiet.

"Yeah, probably, but at least we're really strange together. You're stuck with me." Alec grinned, really smiled instead of merely considering it, and gave the hand in his a squeeze.

"Unfortunately. Now, are you going to let me steal some more of your time, or are you going to sic Clary on me?”

“Hm, depends. How do you feel about a threesome?”

Jace's question was punctuated by snickering as his _parabatai_ , now marvelously scarlet from his hairline to the fraying collar of his old t-shirt, smacked him upside the head quite viciously with a nearby throw pillow.

* * *


End file.
